Why?
by overthemoon07
Summary: Maureen moves in with the Boho boys not really a continuation of beginnings... just another prompt
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Long Way Home

Fanfic  
Characters: Collins, Maureen, Mark, Roger, Benny  
Prompt: 080. Why?  
Word Count: 647  
Rating: PG-13 (for language)  
Summary: There's an addition to the loft  
Author's Notes: I'm not so good at ending these things. Feedback is greatly appreciated.   
Disclaimer: I don't own, I just rent. Thank you Jonathan Larson.

Roger groaned as he stumbled up the stairs, huge cardboard boxes in his arms. The top box teetered and threatened to slide off and spill the contents all over the stairs. He paused and leaned against the wall to steady his load and catch his breath.

"Come on, Rog," a deep voice called from behind. "You're not the only one who's carrying this shit."

Roger sighed as he pulled away from the wall and continued the trek up to the loft. Benny followed close behind, panting as he came. Roger gasped as he burst through the door to the loft, dropping his boxes and collapsing onto the couch. Benny soon followed, dropping his pile of boxes beside Roger's. He bent over, placing his hands on his knees.

Collins entered next, weighed down by suitcases and an oversized duffle bag.

"Is there any more?" Roger asked, hoping the answer was no.

Collins shook his head as he gasped for air. "That's the last of it."

"Finally," Benny grumbled as he straightened out. "After what, three trips? Each?"

"Benny," Collins scolded as he leaned against the wall.

"How much shit does she need?" he asked, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead.

Mark was the next to tumble into the apartment, empty handed. His eyes bugged out as he saw the huge mess that filled the living room of the loft. He eyed his roommates as they panted and sweated.

"Sorry guys," Mark mumbled.

Roger smiled sarcastically as he leaned back on the couch. Collins shrugged, sliding down the wall onto his bottom. But Benny didn't respond as calmly, not that it was expected.

"Jesus Christ, Mark," he started. "What the hell is all of this? We don't have this much shit combined!"

"I don't know," he replied, setting his camera down on the table.

"Why? Why does she have to move in with us?" he whined.

"Because Mark loves her," Collins interjected, sticking up for the scrawny blond.

Benny sighed, rolling his eyes and tossing his arms up in the air. Mark smiled over at Collins, silently thanking him for the comment. A smile crossed Collins lips as he watched the cameraman thank him. He was glad that Mark was happy, and if Maureen made him happy, then she was welcome here anytime. And it was also rather amusing to watch Maureen try and make Benny love her, too. Roger had somewhat warmed to her and Collins had fallen in love with her the first night Mark brought her over. But Benny wasn't as easy to persuade.

"Hey guys," the bubbly diva smiled as she walked into the room, a red Popsicle in her hand. Her lips and tongue were dyed bright red as well and she smiled as she saw the mess that was her belongings piled in the loft. "Oh, you guys moved my stuff! Thanks," she exclaimed, tossing her arms around Mark's neck.

Benny glared at her and then at Mark. If looks could kill, Mark would be dead on the floor the second Benny looked over. Mark blushed as she kissed his cheek, leaving behind a heavy scent of artificial cherry.

"Actually, it was the other three," Mark admitted. "I was out filming."

Maureen handed her Popsicle off to Mark and scooted across the room to the couch. She jumped first on Roger, strangling him in a hug, though he resisted. She climbed off and chased Benny, who tried to hide behind Mark. Maureen hugged him, too, oblivious to the pained expression that hung on his face. Her last stop was Collins and she kissed his cheek before sitting in his lap.

"Thanks guys," she said, leaning against Collins.

"You're welcome, Mo," Collins replied.

"I still don't see why this is necessary," Benny mumbled.

"What?" Maureen asked.

"Nothing," he said as Collins eyed him. "It was no problem. No problem at all."


	2. Chapter 2

Benny stretched up towards the ceiling, yawning as he did so. After he'd cracked his back, he stripped himself of his pajama's, which consisted of a t-shirt and boxers, and twisted the shower faucet. He stepped into the shower to find it was freezing cold. He let out a yelp and began shivering as he let the water run over his dark skin. He turned the temperature up, but the water wouldn't get warmer. "F-f-fuck, it's c-c-cold," he murmured to himself as he reached for the soap. Having no hair made showering go quick. It saved money when it came to shampoo. He felt around for the soap and grabbed the slippery stick. He lathered up his washcloth and rubbed the soapy cloth over his body. A strange unfamiliar scent wafted into his nose. It was sweet, flowery and very girly. Opening his eyes, he looked down to see that he held a pink stick of soap in one hand with the words "Dove" carved into it. Groaning, Benny slid the soap back into the dish and rinsed off quickly. Something gross slid between his toes as he turned to shut the faucet off. Leaning down, he pulled a glob of dark hair out from the middle of his toes. "Eww!" he grumbled, flicking the hair back into the tub. "I hate women."

Benny stepped out of the tub, still shaking, and reached under the sink for a towel. His hands knocked over some cleaning supplies but he found no towel. "Fuck," he mumbled. "Who used the last towel?" he shouted into the loft. "It's freezing in here!"

"Shut up!" a voice groaned back as a towel came flying at the door.

Benny picked it up and closed the door again. He dried himself quickly and wrapped the towel around his waist. He pulled the medicine cabinet open and reached for his razor but much to his surprise, it was gone. In its place sat a package of tampons and a bright pink razor. Benny shuttered and backed up, scowling. "Where's my fucking razor?" he shouted. He dug around in the cabinet, moving Maureen's deodorant and lotions, searching for his razor. Benny slammed the door shut and ripped open the door to the bathroom. "What does she think she's doing?" Benny asked loudly to anyone who was listening.

"What are you grumbling about?" a deep voice asked from the couch. "And please go put some clothes on."

"Maureen!" Benny replied. "She's taking over the loft with her girly shit."

"Quit your bitching," Collins said. "It's too early to start now."

"She used up all the hot water," Benny began, ignoring Collins's comment. "She left a clump of hair in the bottom of the shower. She switched soaps and she put tampons in the place of my razor, which is now missing."

"I actually like the new soap," Collins replied. "Makes my skin soft."

"Collins," Benny grumbled. "Shut up."  
Collins laughed as Benny stomped over towards Mark and Maureen's room. "And another thing," Benny added. "She kicked me out of my own room! Now the three of us are stuck in one room while she and Mark have their own!"

"They need their own," Collins replied. "You wanna watch 'em fuck each other?"

"Yeah, right," Benny replied. "Like Mark's lost his virginity."

"Has, too," the diva mumbled as Benny forced her door open. "Get out."

"Where'd you put my razor?"

"Benny, I'm not decent!" she shouted.

"Ugg!" Benny squeezed his eyes closed and backed out of the room. He slammed the door and knocked loudly. "Where's my razor?"

"In the drawer!" she shouted.

"What drawer?"

"The top drawer!"

Benny grumbled as he stormed back into the bathroom. He dug around in the top drawer and found the razor. Sighing, he lathered his face and prepared to shave.


	3. Chapter 3

So here's more of the story. I think it's kind of going back and forth between everyone's views of Maureen while leading up to the actual start of rent. But I'm not sure. Let me know what you think. Thanks.

And I guess this is a continuation of my other fic called Beginnings, but I think I'm gonna actually stick it into my next chapter as a flashback sort of thing, so if you haven't read beginnings, don't worry about it.

Disclaimer: I am not Jonathan Larson, therefore I do not own RENT.

Roger groaned as he heard Benny shouting from the other room. It was early, way too early to be functioning. He swatted around the top of his nightstand, looking for the tiny piece of shit alarm clock. He brushed the top of the stand off completely, sending his t-shirt from yesterday along with a half empty beer bottle, a pack of cigarettes, his notebook and a bunch of tiny balls of paper onto the floor along with the alarm clock. "Fuck," he grumbled as he dug around in the pile of assorted items, which were now saturated in beer. He flung his notebook back onto the bed, hoping the poems and lyrics inside hadn't bled into each other, and picked up the clock. Not even seven. "It should be illegal to be up this early." He glanced down at the mess beside his bed and flopped back into his pillow, promising to clean it up later.

A loud banging sounded on the door to the room beside Roger's just as he was about to drift off to sleep. He reached over and pounded on the wall beside him. "Shut up!" He heard Benny's voice again, shouting louder, this time at the drama queen, not Collins. This was followed by the creaking of their door and the shriek of Maureen and quickly after that, the slamming of the door. Roger chuckled to himself, only being able to imagine the horrified look on Benny's face of seeing the indisposed performance artist. He heard Collins laugh loudly as well as Benny demanded to know where his razor had gone off to. How Mark slept through this, Roger would never know. Maureen could be in there fucking another man and Mark would probably sleep through it. Roger rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. It was cracked all over the place and in some places, there was no ceiling, only the boards that supported the roof over their heads. No wonder it was so drafty in this place; it was falling apart.

He heard the door of Maureen's room open and close again as the diva slipped into the main room. Roger hadn't been sure of what to think of Maureen when Mark had first brought her home. She was pretty, very pretty, hell, she was hot. God, even Benny would have to agree with that. And so not… Mark. She had this glow about her. She walked into the room and suddenly everything seemed brighter. She had an enormous amount of self-confidence and she was sexy and she knew it. Always cheerful and never boring, Maureen Johnson had Mark Cohen wrapped around her finger. But as gorgeous as she was, she could be cold and spiteful as well. She knew just what to say to guilt Mark into doing whatever she wanted. Some might call her a manipulative bitch, but as true as that may be, Maureen was sugary sweet at the same time, which Roger, at times, found to be extremely annoying. She was so full of energy and always needing to be entertained, Roger felt as if he were babysitting sometimes, not hanging out with one of his friends. He sighed and rolled out of bed. Maureen was complicated and Roger hadn't totally figured her out yet. But she was better than Mark's last girlfriend (a certain Rabbi's daughter who went by the name of Nanette) and a hell of a lot hotter, too.

"Good morning, Rog!" she squeaked cheerfully.

"Hey Maureen," he nodded sleepily as he rubbed his eyes.

"Want some coffee?" she asked.

"Yes, black."

Maureen scurried over to the counter, pulled out a mug and filled it with black liquid. Roger enjoyed being waited on and he sunk down onto the couch, squishing the snoozing professor over. She returned quickly, handing him the mug before sitting down on the "coffee" table (which consisted of some scrap pieces of plywood they'd found in the dumpster a few weeks ago).

"So Roger," Maureen began. "When are we finally gonna meet that girlfriend of yours?"

Roger rolled his eyes and shrugged. "I dunno. I'm not sure if I want her to meet you guys."

Maureen picked up the other pillow from the couch and swatted the guitarist with it. "Shut up," she smiled. "Bring her over tonight. I'll make dinner."

"Mo, we don't have any food," Collins said, his eyes still closed.

"So I'll go get some."

"We don't have any money."

"And I don't want to kill my girlfriend the first night she comes over," Roger grinned.

"Hey, my cooking isn't that bad," she scowled. "It's better than yours."

Roger raised a finger to protest but dropped it quickly. "True."

"I'll make dinner," Collins offered.

"You can help," she smiled. "We'll have to run to the grocery store."

"We'll have to get some money," Collins reminded her, forcing his eyes open.

"I get paid today," she smiled. Maureen had picked up a job at the movie rental place down the street since work as a performance artist had been slow lately and wasn't paying the rent. "I've gotta go." She leaned in and kissed Collins's cheek before standing up. "I'll be home around two. Mark is still sleeping. I think I wore him out."

"Ewww," Roger groaned.

"Bye boys," Maureen waved as she skipped out the door.

"Is she gone?"

Roger spun around to find Benny creeping out of the bathroom, buttoning up his shirt. "Yes, she's gone."

"Good," he sighed. "That was the single most horrifying moment of my life."

"What?" Roger asked. "You mean to tell me you didn't enjoy seeing a half naked Maureen?"

"NO!" Benny shouted.

"You don't think she's hot?"

"Hey, come on," Collins said, sitting up.

"No, I don't think she's hot," Benny replied. "You do?"

"Yeah," Roger shrugged. "You've gotta at least think she's attractive."

Benny sighed as he tied his tie. "All right, I'll give her that. She's pretty."

"Pretty hot," Roger laughed. "Collins, don't you think she's hot?"

"Leave Mo alone," Collins shoved the guitarist, causing him to almost spill his coffee.

"Oh, I see how this is," Roger grinned as he licked the coffee off of his hand.

"See how what is?" Collins asked, glaring at Roger.

"You like her."

"Do not."

"Do, too."

"Do not!"

"Do, too!"

"I do not like Maureen!" Collins shouted.

"All right, all right! Calm down. Don't get so defensive," Roger said, eyebrows raised.

_I LIKE MEN!_ Collins wanted to shout. _I'M GAY! I'M GAY!_ But he said silently.

"Who doesn't like Maureen?" Mark asked as he emerged from his bedroom, wearing a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

"Collins," Roger replied, sipping his coffee.

"What's wrong with Maureen? I thought you two were all buddy buddy."

"We are! But Roger here, thinks I want it to be something more," Collins rolled his eyes.

"Ha," Mark choked out before slapping his hand over his mouth. "No offense Collins, but I just don't see you two… together."

"Neither do I," Collins replied as he stood. "Neither do I."

What do you think? Love it? Hate it? Let me know!


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